


During a Harsh Winter

by BlindCupid



Category: Sense and Sensibility - Jane Austen
Genre: Character Death, F/M, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2020-10-10 14:14:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20529365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlindCupid/pseuds/BlindCupid
Summary: The cold misty air of English winter cut at his cheeks. This was what brought him. This foreboding of a harsh winter. Sickness had taken an elderly tenet already and was spreading through the area. Col. Brandon’s thoughts went to the ladies in the little cottage and hoped their cousin and his friend, Sir John Middleton, was seeing to their welfare. His concern, however, drove him to see for himself despite the disappointment he had experienced in the loss of Miss Marianne to Mr. Willoughby and the pain of remembrance as he looked towards the cottage.





	During a Harsh Winter

After Marianne’s elopement to one John Willoughby and the soon following fulfillment of long-engaged Lucy Steele to Edward Ferris. Col. Brandon found himself once again at the door of the little cottage that housed the remaining ladies Dashwoods. 

The cold misty air of English winter cut at his cheeks. This was what brought him. This foreboding of a harsh winter. Sickness had taken an elderly tenet already and was spreading through the area. Col. Brandon’s thoughts went to the ladies in the little cottage and hoped their cousin and his friend, Sir John Middleton, was seeing to their welfare. His concern, however, drove him to see for himself despite the disappointment he had experienced in the loss of Miss Marianne to Mr. Willoughby and the pain of remembrance as he looked towards the cottage. All seemed quiet inside and he was tempted to leave without disturbing its inhabitants. The decision to knock however, was flung away as the front door creaked open to reveal a very weak and distraught Elinor Dashwood.

“Oh! Col. Brandon,” Her hands clutched at the shawl around her shoulders. “I’m afraid we are all indisposed today. I must, fetch a doctor.” Her voice was strained and her complexion pale. She looked as though she’d be blown away with the next gust of wind. 

“Might I be of service? Please, I’ll go myself for doctor, you must lie down and not exert yourself.”

She looked as though she might insist in going herself but she nodded and her shoulders seemed to relax, as though he’d lifted a heavy burden from them. 

“Thank you.” She sighed. 

She wobble a little and Col Brandon caught her elbow and lead her into the small sitting room to rest on the couch while he went for the doctor.

———

Elinor recovered quickly. Col Brandon believe it due to sheer will to help her mother and sister Margret in their recoveries. The doctor could not stay long as he had many other patients this season but promised to return. So, Elinor had found her strength in her role as nurse and she had a fierce protectiveness of those she loved that was to be admired. Col Brandon believed her efforts did help, if only to delay what appeared to be inevitable. 

Mrs. Dashwood passed first, peacefully in her sleep as Elinor had been keeping vigil over Margret. The news affected her, surely, but she seemed to wait to grieve until her sister was out of danger. Elinor poured her care and attention into Margret and in return Margret fought as well as she could and as was in her nature to do. However, it was not to be and Margret passed not long after her mother. Even though every hour had seemed an eternity, in reality, she had followed her mother into the next life only eight hours later. 

Elinor watch helplessly as her little sister drew in her last breath and waited but her sister’s body lay still and silent and the staleness of death permeated the whole of that little cottage that day. 

Col Brandon felt Elinor’s heart-wrenching wail cut through his very soul. She collapsed on her sister’s bedside in overwhelming grief and despair. Without thought to propriety or decorum, Christopher Brandon gathered Elinor into his arms. She turned into him and away from the soulless likeness of her beloved sister. He daren’t hush her weeping, nothing could quiet the grief of such a loss. He would know. 

He clutched her to himself. Finding a desperation to give this young woman a hold onto this world. He listened to her cries, turn to sobs and eventually to the fitful breathing of one too tired to weep anymore. She became heavy in his gasp, so he shifted an arm under her knees and lifted her into his arms and out of the room. He carried her to the sitting room and sat them on the sofa.

Later, he would try to understand his next actions but, would only be able to comfort himself that he had not been thinking at all for, against all rules of propriety between a maid and a bachelor he cradled her in his lap and placed a kiss into her hair about her temple and then another on her forehead and another on her cheek and her eyes and her nose and finally her lips. Her lips were dry and chapped but soft and yielding. He was still kissing her, clutching her to his breast while she sat cradled across his lap when the doctor had returned with Sir John, too late to do any good now. 

Realization hit him hard what he’d done. He’d taken advantage of a vulnerable woman in time of great grief. Elinor didn’t look up at the sound of the door but instead buried her face into the crook of his neck. Col. Brandon squeezed his eyes shut in shame and discarding all remaining propriety buried his face into Elenor’s shoulder. 

‘God forgive me.’ He thought.


End file.
